


Dealing With the Devil

by hacklesacademy (ladyvivien)



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Agatha is deliciously evil, Bargaining, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Hecate is in over her head, Magic, so going to hell for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 05:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12292224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyvivien/pseuds/hacklesacademy
Summary: With Ada gone and Agatha in charge, Hecate makes a deal with the devil.





	Dealing With the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Set during The Worst Headmistress, assuming there was a period of weeks where Agatha was running the school and Ada was trapped in the painting.

_She feels like she's lost a sense. She's clumsy - walking into things, fumbling with door handles, colliding with girls in the hallway. She drinks tea she's let go cold because she can't heat it up with a wave of her hand and she can't face walking back to the staff room to make a fresh cup under the pitying gaze of Miss Bat or then mocking gaze of Miss Gullet._  
  
_It takes two weeks. She's pathetic. She deserves whatever scorn Agatha will drip from that condescending smirk, from the mouth so like the one Hecate has spent years imagining kissing._  
  
_But it's two weeks before Hecate knocks on the Headmistress' door, shaking like she hasn't since she was a schoolgirl herself. Two weeks before she looks Agatha Cackle squarely in the eye and says_  
  
_"I want to make a deal."_

 

Agatha hadn't thought it would be quite so easy. If she'd been a gambling woman, she'd have given it months - long enough for the girls to start chafing under her command, long enough for the new regime to truly sink in. She had expected Hecate to come to her then, angry and proud, ready to trade her dignity for the gaggle of magical mediocrities Ada called a school.Or that she'd come to her on the first night, eyes dark and voice throaty, offering herself to the only woman who can truly appreciate Hecate Hardbroom for what she really is.

"One transference spell," the younger woman begs, and Agatha can practically taste the self-loathing. "You can choose when and where. Please, Ag- Miss Cackle." She doesn't spit the words out, but they don't trip as obediently from her tongue as Agatha would like.

"Funny," she smiles. "I thought you of all people understood the importance of rules. Of control. Of...discipline."

There it is. The most minuscule of jolts. Her eyes barely widen, her breath barely hitches, but Agatha has hit on exactly what Hecate Hardbroom needs and will never admit to wanting.

"But I could be persuaded. Given the right incentive, of course."

"You already have the school." Hecate points out bitterly.

Agatha shakes her head, tutting in fake disappointment.

"Play nicely if you want that deal. And you know what I want." She traces those sharp cheekbones with a fingertip in a slow caress.

"What do you want?"

"The last of Ada's toys that I haven't played with yet."

Hecate swallows. "I don't understand."

But she does. She's seen the way Agatha looks at her, even if she has missed the fact that Ada's been looking at her the exact same way for a decade and change.

"I want you, Hecate. On your knees, right here."

She spreads her legs, just enough to make it very clear what she means.

"If you'd like me to authorise that transference spell then I suggest you pull down my knickers and get to work, my dear." She caresses the inside of Hecate's wrist and feels the other woman shiver. "Or would you rather walk up each of those hundred steps to your bedroom before you can play with that sadly-neglected little cunt of yours?"

It's always so charming when pale women blush. Hecate is practically the colour of her lipstick.

"I didn't mean - I wasn't going to..."

Of course she wasn't. She was going to save up her transference spell for some eager little plan to save Ada. But it's time the other witch was reminded just who is in control here - and if it means Hecate has to come back, again and again, buying back her magic with her tongue or her hands.... Well, Agatha sees no harm in letting her have a little hope.

"I will authorise one transference spell, to be used when I say it is appropriate. In return, I want you to show me just how badly you want it."

She isn't just talking about the spell, and Hecate knows it.

"Your terms are acceptable, Headmistress."

She sinks to her knees and looks up through lowered lashes. "May I proceed?"

Whatever else one can say about Hecate Hardbroom - and there is a lot Agatha can say about the second most irritating thorn in her side - when she decides to do something, she decides to do it well. As requested, she reaches out a tentative hand to the soaked black silk covering Agatha's cunt. There's a question in her eyes - is it the manipulation that's turning her on, or is it the woman on her knees before her? Well, a little of column A and a little of column B - and then the fabric has been taken care of, and Hecate really gets to work.

God, Agatha is only ever going to fuck perfectionists from now on. No more morally dubious lackeys who take shortcuts. Oh yes, uptight good girls get the job done. She'd half expected an awkward virgin, but Hecate certainly knows what she's doing.

"Aren't you the talented one my girl? What a dark horse, Hecate. Did Ada know just how experienced you are? Maybe that's how you got the job - it certainly wasn't your warm demeanour." A soft inhalation of shock, a momentary lapse in concentration and effort It won't be tolerated. " _Don't. Stop._ " She yanks on a handful of dark hair and the muffled cry against her clit nearly pushes her over the edge.

The only sounds in the room are the fire crackling in the grate and Hecate's warm, stuttering breath against her oversensitive flesh. Why couldn't this be enough for Ada? Why couldn't she have a cottage and a pretty witch between her thighs and left the school to the sister who would actually appreciate it? Anger coils low in her belly, twining around the mounting pleasure.

"That's it, darling. Lick your Headmistress' pussy. You've wanted to do this since the day you set foot in here, haven't you?"

Oh, indignant, aroused cries feel good down there. She'll remember that for next time. 

"Maybe one day I'll have you use your fingers while you tell me exactly what it is you've been imagining all these years."

Maybe she won't wait that long. The knot of arousal starts to tighten as Agatha pieces together her perfect revenge. She'll bring the disloyal tart down a peg or two, while showing Ada just what she'll never have.

Her hips arch off the chair as pleasure overwhelms her. Hecate, good girl that she is, doesn't stop until she's licked Agatha into two more shuddering climaxes and then only when Agatha pats her weakly on the shoulder. Death by orgasm wouldn't be the worst way to go - she's likely to face a lot worse, when the time eventually comes - but she has plans that won't be derailed no matter how exquisitely Miss Hardbroom shows off her skills.

She stands only when she knows her legs can handle it, and Hecate rises too. Normally that would be enough for punishment but Agatha is feeling magnanimous tonight - and besides, she has one last surprise in store.

She feels Hecate gasp against her mouth when she kisses her, slow and long and deep. Strokes her hair tenderly and feels the other witch melt into her hands. She's so lust-addled at this approximation of what she most wants in the world that Agatha could order her to burn down the whole castle and she'd do it in a heartbeat. Such loyalty ought to be repaid.

"Such a good girl for your Headmistress," Agatha croons. "I think you deserve a reward." Her hand travels up the planes of a strong, muscled thigh before magicing the tediously sensible cotton away to find slick damp curls.

It's enough to jolt Hecate out of her reverie.

"That's really not necessary, I..."

"Oh?" She moves behind the other woman and bites down on the soft flesh of Hecate's neck. "Perhaps you've already had your reward. Did you come without permission, you little slut?"

She pinches Hecate's clit hard, and feels she shake with the effort of holding back her own climax.

"No, I..."

"What?"

"I always get like this. This...wet." Oh, her shame tastes delicious. She's tight, but Agatha's fingers slide in so easily and as she fucks her, she angles them both toward to painting on the wall.

"I know it's not me you want," she murmurs against Hecate's hair. "You can say her name. I won't mind."

" _Ada_. Oh God, oh _God_.."

Hecate is a babbling mess, writhing in Agatha's arms and alternately begging Ada for forgiveness and pleading her imaginary lover to fuck Hecate harder.

"Wanted you for so long. Thought about you touching me like this. All yours, Ada. Please. _Please_."

"So eager! She could have had you - any time she liked. It's been clear as day since the moment I met you, darling. But she didn't, did she? Left you all untouched and wanting. Maybe she didn't want to sully her hands with such a filthy girl."

It shouldn't work, but it does - Agatha can feel it in the way the warm, wet flesh throbs and contracts about her fingers that her newfound lover is about to come, and come hard.

"Little tart. What would Ada say if she could see you now?" Hecate whimpers, and it's that mix of embarrassment and arousal that makes Agatha show her hand (or at least the one she doesn't have tangled in Hecate's hair). "Oh, wait - _she can_."

Ada stares down impassively from the painting, but Agatha can only imagine the agony her sister is experiencing at the obscene display her Deputy Headmistress and loyal right hand has put on here tonight and as the realisation floods through her, it sends Hecate tumbling over the edge in a messy, shame-filled climax.

When she's recovered her senses, Hecate stiffens in her arms as she realises what really happened, and Agatha knows she's crossed a line. Miss Gullet's wards will only set off an alarm if Hecate uses unauthorised magic, not prevent it entirely. She could strike Agatha down with a snap of her fingers if she wanted - the fools don't see the only thing keeping their new Headmistress in charge is their own compliance.

Luckily Hecate has always been a stickler for rules and authority and when Agatha captures those slender wrists in a vice-like grip, she doesn't struggle.

"What do you think your precious Ada will do if you attack me? Do you really think she'll want you after you break the Witches' Code? After you hurt her sister? After she heard all that filth you normally keep locked away in that brilliant mind of yours? And remember - there are worse fates than being trapped in a picture frame. Don't make me use them - on either of you." There it is - her final spell, pulling Hecate into her orbit like a planet. If she wants Ada's continued safety, she'll do exactly as she's told. "Cast your spell, Miss Hardbroom. You've earned it, after all."

The other witch looks like she wants to argue but begins to shimmer out of vision, lips pressed tightly together and only trembling a little and eyes shining with tears she's too proud to shed in front of Agatha.

"Isn't that better, Hecate? Isn't life so much easier when you give me what I want?"

She's speaking to the empty air, but her point was made long before Hecate vanished.

She pours a glass of brandy from Ada's private stash and turns to the painting with a mocking smile.

"I remember now why you stopped letting me play with your toys." She raises a glass to her sister, immobilised in oils and canvas and magic. "I always used to break them."


End file.
